


In Accordance to Natural Law

by fallen_for_another_psychopath



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Dark, F/F, F/M, Power Couple, Revenge, Sexism, Smut, attachmentless sex, college politics, matriarchal au, soccer team au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 01:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2490029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallen_for_another_psychopath/pseuds/fallen_for_another_psychopath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Raven?</p><p>'They're like the Frank and Claire Underwood of Ark University.'</p><p>'One time Raven Reyes kicked me in the balls. It was awesome.'</p><p>'I don't know, man, that Clarke chick is uptight. She didn't laugh at my joke.'<br/>'It was a stupid joke.'<br/>'It ribbed on men, what's not to laugh at?'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Intro

_Fuck._

Clarke slammed her hands against the wall of the soccer team's changing rooms.

No one could give head like Raven could.

And then she started tugging.

Her knees buckled and she gripped onto Raven's hair.

It was Raven looking up that finally did it. She was stroking her tongue up slowly and her eyes glinted with confidence - she knew what she was doing, she had gotten to know her pressure points and weaknesses over the past year so she had a right to be confident, Clarke supposed.

Raven had this little ritual where she'd leave a hickey on Clarke's thigh everytime she made her come. (And an extra one for every time they did it somewhere they weren't supposed to. Which in hindsight the girls locker room should have repelled her usually uptight hygienic principled self but this was Raven. Resistance is futile.)

Needless to say she had more than a few fading purple marks on her thighs.

Clarke had rituals too. But that's for Raven to know...

_Fuck me with your fingers like you have a dick,_ she once said, _except without the pansy-ass balls_. Her pussy could take it.

She liked pressure a lot.

Which was why Clarke used to tease her with just the tip of her tongue and lightly graze down her breasts and abdominals.

She hated it when Clarke did that.

This wasn't the time or place for that though.

They had only succumbed to this after practice because playing soccer was like foreplay for them. Rough tackling. Kicking balls with force. The high fives after scoring. Lifting up your shirt to wipe the sweat off your face.

Like she said. Foreplay.

Things got heated when they played competitively however.

Raven was hot headed. When an opponent once stabbed Clarke's foot with her studs, drawing blood, Raven slammed extra hard into the dick and earned herself a yellow card.

When Raven got forcibly pinned down, her hair yanked back and she landed awkwardly on her foot, she gave them all a scare that she'd broken something from the sound of her screams, but luckily it was just a soft tissue strain.

Still, Clarke chose a more tactical, calculated revenge: breaking into the exams office - using her dick, Collins, and fucking up their paper. 

She would have loved to have said that Raven added another thigh hickey that day but even Clarke had limits. She had class to get to.

Even though she knew Raven was screaming more out of lost pride and anger, she knew she would have no problems taking down anyone who made her scream like that.

You don't get to the top without making enemies along the way though. And her and Raven were at the top. Still didn't stop them from whispering.

_Fag._

Fooling around when you were younger was tolerated by most of their generation but there was still that pressure from the olds. Settle down. Choose a mate. Further the human race bla di bla.

That's actually what they referred to males as, 'mates'.

Disposable dicks.

Go back to fixing our cars and doing menial DIY shit and let us women handle the stuff that requires brains, _okay?_

There were no female vs male segregated teams here at Arkadia. There was only one soccer team, and that was an all-female one anyway. Unless you count the waterboys, Jasper and Monty, which nobody ever did.

It was widely regarded that men's soccer was pathetic. They were weak. Hit them in the balls and they'd crumble; they'd dive a mile if someone as much as tripped them up. They didn't run as much because they thought they could rely on their single leg power. She'd seen the footage from the 2000s, it was justified.

They had a hierarchy and it worked.

But then one scholarship student, Bellamy Blake, arrived to threaten their system.


	2. Thick Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boys, soccer and baths.
> 
> Don't be alarmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A little water clears us of this deed: How easy is it, then!"

 

Clarke grunted; she panted; she whined.

 

_"Fuck yes."_

_"Come on!"_

_"Just a little to the left"_

Finn paused. "A little more to the left and my dick's going to be poking your spleen!"

Clarke turned to glance at Finn behind her. "Oh, sorry. Not you. I meant this damn thing," she gestured to the Tetris in her hands. "You can keep going," she added, when he paused his movements.

"Okay then."

By the time he finished, Clarke had reached level 34. All in all, a good day. She packed her Tetris away in her back pack and held out a tissue, "and now the payment."

He looked at her incredulously.

"At least let me put my pants back on. Jeez. Sometimes I think you girls only want one thing."

Clarke let out a soundless laugh.

"Here," Finn handed a wad of papers over, "managed to get a photocopy so don't worry about giving it back."

She kissed him on the cheek and left.

The irony was not lost on her that once upon a time she and Raven had engaged in a threesome with the thought of pleasing _him_.

 

* * *

 

 

Raven and Clarke have a fair system in their apartment: if one person cooks, then the other has to clean up. Later that day, Raven cooked dinner _and_ she cleaned up afterwards; she would probably be doing that for a while. 

"We really need a bigger place," Clarke moaned as she hopped up to sit on the work top, shoving away the Scientific American and Men's Health magazines that Raven had left scattered around. She wore her go-to comfy attire: a baggy Chelsea shirt of her dads that fit more like a dress. 

"Hey! For me, this is large." Raven berated her, as cutlery clanged upon plates making Clarke jump. (Raven was amazing with her hands: splicing wires delicately and... splicing wires, but she was a clutter-y mess at doing the dishes). 

"Middle class habits die hard huh?" 

They died fast, Clarke found; especially when she was as ridiculously busy as she was.

She withdrew into herself and listened as Raven, the ever bright and animated Raven, communicated bits of Bellamy Blake's transcript to her; it was made more exciting being transmitted live from in a sport bras and skinny jeans.

"Holy shit though, Clarke. His transcript was _insane_."

"I should hope so, for what I went through to get it."

"Oh don't worry. I'll eat your ass out later to make up for it," Raven replied lightly. 

"You should not sound so cute when you're saying that."

"Oh yeah?" Raven sauntered forwards to Clarke, "how should I sound?"

"Not like _that_ either," Clarke warned.

Raven trailed her nails up Clarke's thighs playfully, leaving trails of fairy liquid bubbles.

Clarke gasped. "Your hands are cold."

"And you're hot. Perfect balance."

Clarke placed her hands on top of Raven's, stopping them on her upper thigh, and they shared a kiss.

Raven groaned when Clarke pulled away.

"Raven?" Clarke sighed. "Do you ever think about what we've done?"

"Yeah I do. Especially during lectures" was the glib response from Raven.

Clarke rolled her eyes, "No. Like, the stuff that we've done. For our own gain... getting back at others? And today. All I did just to get a random kid's transcript because you had a confrontation with him?"

"Don't do that, Clarke. You think too much. We did what we had to do, and we do what we have to to get by in this sick world and stay one step ahead."

"I know. And I don't regret it. I just... wonder sometimes, if there wasn't another way."

"Hey," Raven called, gripping Clarke's chin. "Look at me."

At seeing the sincerity and strength in Raven's eyes, she had to concede.

But the thing that scared her most was not what she had done, but what she always discovered after upon her reflections: that she never thought twice before doing them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Meet the Boys**

 

In the front row of lecture 4 in Mekka Campus it is guaranteed Jasper and Monty will be there. And generally, not joined by many, maybe the odd oil sheikh heir or grandchild of an academic legend.

Which is why incidentally they jumped in shock when somebody like Bellamy Blake addressed them; they were supposed to be safe at the front from people trying to buy their stash.

"Gentlemen."

"Erm... Tall, deep voiced, muscle-y guy," Jasper replied. _Tall, deep voiced, muscle-y, fucking hot guy, Monty amended._

Bellamy smiled in response. "So... I heard you two are on the soccer team."

"Yep," Jasper puffed up his chest self-importantly, "we most certainly are".

"We're water boys," Monty stated matter of factly, giving his best friend the side-eye.

"Well, for now," Jasper fumbled. "But we've been observing, learning Clarke's tactics, (she's insane) and we're totally ready to try out. Like next year or something."

"I see," Bellamy interjected. "Why not this term? I'm going to try out this afternoon. You should join me."

"Oh. Oh no... The women would laugh us out."

"Maybe. But don't you want you want to be part of something greater? Don't let your fear hold you back. Where would the world be if Nikola Tesla gave up after being bankrupt and cast out from society?"

 _"I_ would have discovered AC/DC," Monty cut in.

"Right," Bellamy said. "Two hundred years later."

Monty shrugged. "Hey, maybe the world wouldn't have been so fucked up if Teresa Edison hadn't ripped off Tesla's ideas."

"But then Raven Reyes would totally one up you today." Jasper pointed out, a little fear in his tone; it intrigued Bellamy.

"She's vice captain right?" Bellamy asked.

"Nah," Jasper replied. "That's Roma. Raven doesn't do titles, or responsibility - she's as good as vice though. Think of her as the Vasilisa Putin to Clarke's Medvedev that one term, or the Darth Vadar to Clarke's Emperor."

"You're comparing university soccer captains to evil supremacist overlords?" Bellamy looked sceptical, but he wasn't surprised, not really.  

"I mean... if the high heel fits."

Monty dived in to do damage control; "as you may tell, my friend here has a flare for the overdramatic. Clarke isn't that innocent either though; we just take soccer very seriously here."

Bellamy looked pleased at that. "Good. I'll see you two at try-outs," he said confidently, giving both their shoulders a friendly thump as he left their row.

"Err- we never said we would... go." Jasper trailed off helplessly, watching as Bellamy infiltrated another group of people, including John Murphy. So questionable taste was on the table.

"Oh yeah. He's going to get along with Raven and Clarke just fine." Monty remarked. 

"Is that your sarcastic voice? I can't tell," Jasper asked.

"Nope. If I was being sarcastic I would have said now speaking of fine, that Bellamy is."

"There's like no difference in your voice?"

"Oh yeah. It's because I realised too late that I wasn't being sarcastic. I just wanted an excuse to say that he is _fine_."

Jasper mocked being affronted. "Speaking as your long-term best friend, I am offended. Aren't I some fine man-candy?"

Monty pulled a face. "Sorry Jas. You're an acquired taste. Which, incidentally, I haven't found the antidote for."

"Well, that could be because chemistry isn't your strong point," Jasper fairly pointed out.

"Oh yeah." Monty faked dawning realisation. " _That's_ why I hang out with you."

"Shut up." Jasper gave Monty a half hug. He was big on those. "It's totally my big dick."

Monty shook his head, laughing. "Not going to touch that. Too weird."

"Yeah, you wish you could touch it," Jasper waggled his eyebrows.

Monty groaned at his friend, "is no expression safe from you?"

They looked at each other.

"Nope," they said in unison. The occasion called for their not so secret high five.

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Try Outs**

 

Being captain required some menial tasks that Clarke hated. Administration, and namely reminding people to do things that they really should have remembered themselves, and she could be pretty brash with it sometimes so she deferred to Roma. Clarke was a concise, bigger picture kind of girl so you can imagine the pain here.  
  
"Okay, ladies." She cried at the new set of try outs all gathered around her, and resisted the urge to put on a British lad accent á la Vinnie Jones in all his movies.

"Two laps around the field - the usual. Let's go."

Raven sped out at the front of the crowd to lead, closely followed by an equally hyped up Roma.

"Wonder why _you're_ showing off, or who for," Roma commented.

Raven flipped her off but smiled anyway.

The try outs had all past the one lap point, and Clarke was just about to finish the last of her paper work and join them when a tall guy in soccer gear jogged up, and very casually too, she noted with disapproval.

When he reached her a small smile tugged at his features. "Good evening."

"Good evening?" Clarke replied, mimicking his formality.

"This soccer try outs?"

"Indeed it is."

"My name's Bellamy Blake and I'd like to try out," he said, without breaking eye contact.

"No." Clarke cut him off harshly.

His face fell. "What- why?" Then it dawned on him, "because I'm-"

"Because you're _late_." She said pointedly. "If you want to be on this team, you have to be fully committed. I don't accept tardiness."

"And if I have a valid reason? I'm a transfer, and I had to handle some admin bullshit."

"We gave sufficient notice for try outs." And with that Clarke turned her back.

"So what are you going to tell your team?"

She recoiled to face him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard. You going to say you rejected me because I have a dick, or because I was two minutes late?"

"That's none of your concern." She really did not have time for this crap.  

"Sure. I mean, they already think you're prissy and up tight, so it's got to be the first one, right?"

Clarke sucked in a breath. "You seem to know, or think you know, an awful lot for someone who claims to be new."

"I'm a fast learner."

She paused. "Okay then."

"What?" _Oh don't look so surprised now, Blake. You were doing so well._

"Okay, you can try out."

He nodded, but stood rooted to the spot.

"Well?" She asked impatiently. "What are you waiting for? Hit the field."

He didn't blink.

"Are you also aware that your two water boys want to try out?"

"Jasper and Monty?" Clarke asked, disbelievingly.

"None other."

She turned to the pair, who were fumbling over the water stand, pretending they hadn't heard the whole exchange.

"You boys never told me that?  Is this true?"

Jasper replied, "Technically, yeah. I mean, it's okay, we feel a bit guilty in leaving the water stand unaccounted for..."

"Don't be ridiculous. We can find new water boys. Or girls. Give me two laps."

"Really?"

Clarke glared; her patience and energy for goodwill only extended so far.

"Don't make me tell you twice."

"Yes ma'am!" They both voiced.

She watched as the three boys ran out, and smiled when Jasper let out a "holy cow, tall muscly guy, I don't how you did it!"

 

 

Yeah. He _was_ pretty tall. And the other thing. She liked the way he stood up for Jasper and Monty, but she suspected it was more because he liked to prove that he could rather than out of any genuine concern.

Yeah. She would be lying if she said she wouldn't be disappointed if he sucked.

 

 

As the boys caught up with their laps, the rest of the team had started doing stretches; she almost feared watching the others' reactions but to her relief they were mostly cool. The soccer team was never really a representation of the whole school however. From one sector however they were particularly loud.

She almost felt embarrassed at the taunts they sent the boys. Raven remained silent though, and in hindsight that should have been the first warning.

_'Aw. Need a special ball cup?'_

_'Your balls are going to join this one, at the back of my net.'_

_'Nice legs, sweetie.'_

"Roma, Munroe." _Always those two_. "If you can find the energy to talk you've not been working hard enough."

The two quietened but looked at each other, and Munroe licked her teeth, mouth wide open, causing Roma to burst out into giggles.

"Okay, this is how the session will go..." Clarke dictated.

 

 

_Clarke's notes _

_Term 2 - Try Outs_

_Formations: 7-a-side._

_Team Blue: Monroe (Goal), Zorana, Harper and Mel (Defence), Ines (Midfield), Roma and Jasper (Strikers)._

_Team Red: Emori (Goal), Fox, Sterling and Amal (Defence),  Bellamy and Monty, (Midfield), Raven (Centre Forward)._

 

 

Clarke walks out onto the middle of the pitch with Raven and Roma, the self appointed captains. "Heads or tails?" She asks them.

"Tails," Roma offers.

Clarke tossed her coin and slammed it in her palm. "Tails it is."

"Alright! Let's play some soccer, bitches."

 

Roma skips back to her team; "Monroe, you know what to do, no mercy; Mel, mark the shit out of any striker; Harper, always be around when somebody needs to pass back; Goggles, you're with me."

 

Raven with her team went a slightly different way; "so what's our game plan?" Bellamy asks. 

"Score." 

"Cute," Bellamy says, in a voice making it clear that he did not find it cute at all. 

 

 

Roma and Jasper wait for Clarke to blow the whistle for kick-off, one with impatience and the other with dread.

"You better not suck, goggles. Because I want to win."

Jasper gulps in return. He shakes his arms, and jumps up in alertness when the shrill sound of the whistle echoes the pitch.

He kicks the ball Roma, but hesitates at the last second so it curves and when it hits Roma's inner foot, bounces to the right and she has to run to control it. The second of hesitation is enough for Raven to attack; she sprints to Roma and slide tackles her, the ball flying beyond them both. Harper runs up and regains control for Blues, dribbling up to the half way point. 

"Harper! Over here!" Jasper shouts from her left when Monty blocks her. She ignores him, and proceeds to dribble and lithely dodge Monty, once she gets through Monty she passes to Jasper. _Don't show off and don't push your luck_ \- her dad always used to say. There's a lot to be said for luck in soccer. 

Jasper is surprised when Harper passes to him, even though he called for it; nevertheless he controls the ball and dribbles, his lanky legs knocking awkwardly with the ball. It's only too easy for Fox to find his weakness there and she intercepts the ball, regaining control for Reds.

"Way to go, Goggles." Roma calls. 

 

 

Clarke watches as the Reds attack: Monty kicks the ball accurately down the field to Bellamy, and he has an opportunity to get close to the box; Mel runs up to block him and kick the ball from out underneath him but he can't stop his body weight fast enough to not knock her over. 

She runs out onto the pitch and gets her whistle out to call for a yellow card but he's already on the ground helping her up gently.

"I'm really sorry, that was rough. Are you okay?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine. Thank you." Mel simpered, the blush that comes with embarrassment creeping on.

Raven walks by witnessing the scene; "get a grip, Mel."

Bellamy just looks at Raven with an eyebrow raised, wondering who pissed her off or whether she was always like that. 

 

 

"Listen, Reyes," Bellamy says at half-time. "We're a mess out there; we need some sort of game plan. We can go up in triangles with Monty? He's fast enough to keep up with us."

"Sounds like you have it all figured out," she remarks.

"Almost. I need you to say you're in. You're good; you're really good. We need you for this to work."

Raven searches his face, and satisfied at finding, or rather not finding, something, she replies. "Fine. I'll be around."

Bellamy nods. He supposes that that was commitment in her books.

 

Raven 1-2s up the field effectively with Monty. Bellamy shouts for Raven to pass to him when they're near the penalty box _._ He dives for Raven's kick, but her kick goes wide. 

Clarke mouths a 'WTF' at Raven, who shrugs in return.

Later Monty kicks another accurate cross from midfield and it hurtles towards Raven. She controls it and dribbles towards the box, but defenders come at her aggressively.

"Pass it here, Reyes. I'm free!" Bellamy shouts from her left.

Raven ignores him and proceeds to take on Harper's ruthless defence; she uses skill to dodge her and the others, shoulders past Mel and shoots towards the goal. Monroe dives for it but the ball curves perfectly over her head and drops into the net. 

She jumps and fist pumps the air, ignoring the rest of the team's celebrations.

Bellamy paces slowly, hands on his hips, and sneaks a glance to Clarke.

She pretends she doesn't notice it out of the corner of her eye.

 

Raven's team wins 5-3, largely thanks to her, and some headers from Bellamy set up by Monty; the problem was she played a near one-man game.

So Clarke had that to consider.

 

 

_Time to make a decision, Clarke._

 

Tradition dictates that you hand an old shirt over to the players who make it onto the the first team.

 

She hands them to:

Roma,

Monroe,

Harper,

Monty - his first instinct is to look at Jasper, and his excitement fades as he sees Jasper's face fall, who's started to realise he may not be picked at all.

Fox... etc. 

 

Clarke wavers as she holds the last shirt. She's about to do one of the hardest things she's ever had to do.

She locks eyes with Raven who smiles confidently, like there was no doubt in the world that Clarke would be picking her next; she needed that.

She walks over to Bellamy and hands him the final shirt. His eyes light up and she feels a little less bad.

"Well done. That's all the first stringers. The rest of you are second string, but don't lose hope. You're still part of the team. We'll practise together, and you'll have more than enough opportunity to train and make it onto first - _if you ultimately prove yourself to be a good team player_."

Her shoulder is shoved to the side; Raven had stormed past her.

"Ohh. My. God!" Roma breaks the silence.

And then the whole group starts murmuring and gossiping. It gives Clarke a headache on top what she had to do. Yet she doesn't have the energy to tell them to _stop_.

"Hey!" Bellamy shouts out. They quieten more out of surprise than his authority. "You just had your first opportunity to show a little team work and respect to your captain. If this is your definition of a team, I sure as hell don't want to be a part of it."

Munroe speaks up, offended. "You don't understand what just happened here. But you're new, that's ok. Me and Roma will be happy to teach you..." She taunts. 

"Okay that's enough." Clarke was teetering on the edge. "Team dismissed."

She walks briskly off the pitch. She needs to find Raven, but knowing her, it would probably be best that she give her a little time to cool off first. Raven always saw reason once her emotional fit blew over.

"Clarke," she hears Bellamy call her but she doesn't stop. He jogs to catch up with her and gently grasps her hand from behind.

She turns around, and frowns at their hands, and he drops hers after gauging her reaction. 

"For what's it worth, I think what you did was really cool."

She just looks at him blankly. She knew she had. Done the right thing, that was. Bellamy's definition of cool was his prerogative.

"It's not easy running things, is it?" He smiles knowingly.

His dark smile was infectious. "Thanks," she replies quietly.

He nods, and lets her walk away alone. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Clarke returns to their apartment, she hears the patter of water from the bathroom. She strips off her kit before she walks in, she would have looked real stupid if Raven had locked the door but she was counting on her relaxed attitudes in that respect.

Pulling back the shower curtain, she catches Raven in the middle of rinsing off shampoo. Raven's eyes are closed, but she flinches when Clarke joins her under the shower-head.

Clarke says nothing, relishing the hot water and they stay like that for a minute, although it feels like an age. At last Raven opens her eyes to look at her.

"Remember when you said you'd pick me first," her voice cracks, and Clarke could die.

"I do. And I will. But you put me in an awkward position. You were messing with Bellamy, over whatever petty reason - so he pissed you off in class and you sabotage the game? When you're on the field you need to get over it and be a team player."

"Nice to have your support. No loyalty guarantee in the Great Griffin manual?"

Clarke scoffs but doesn't rise to the bait of Raven's dig at her family. "You don't want support. You want blind devotion. Again and again, you put me in situations which make me bend my principles and you know I'd do it for you in a heart beat when it's justified. But today... that was pettiness."

Raven pulls a face. "Oh, don't give me your twisted sense of justice bullshit. You don't have a moral code, not when it suits you.

You _live_ for this shit." Raven leans in, over extenuating every word. Clarke feels herself flushing; out of anger, attraction (as always).

"You'd be bored out of your brains if it wasn't for this," Raven continues, trailing her fingers lightly down Clarke's centre, from the sternum to the navel of her stomach.

Clarke glares at Raven before she cups her face and kisses her. Raven's arms crawl around her clumsily in response and Clarke senses what would inevitably come so breaks off to say "you're still not on first string."

Raven smiles cockily, "we'll see about that."

In retaliation, Clarke takes Raven's lower lip into her teeth when they resume kissing and bites. A little groan escapes Raven and she's too engrossed to be embarrassed by the slip and just grips her tighter, but it's hard when they're so wet. The pressure of the water heightens their senses somehow.  

 

 

Clarke almost slips when she leans back on the cool tiled wall, out of the impact of the shower-head, and hitches one leg up around Raven's thigh. "Show me how you got those abs, Reyes." 

(Let it not be said that Raven backs down from a challenge.)

 

Raven just kisses and touches and Clarke loves it and returns it, but she wants to hear her too. She's not Raven without her snark and energy.

"Talk to me, Raven." 

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything. You can make the most banal of comments." 

"Hm... You're so wet," Raven murmurs against her neck.

She pauses. "Well, we are in a shower, Raven."

"Sssh. Don't ruin my dirty talk."

"Sorry, I- oh god," Clarke swerves. "Oh god, oh god."

Her breathing turns quick and shallow, her hips finding a pace until Raven pauses tantalisingly and gently kisses Clarke's sunken forehead. (???)

"Yeah. _I'm_ the one who wants blind devotion," Raven says bitingly before retreating from her.

"Raven..." Clarke cries, all raspy from the want, but Raven walks out the bathroom without a single glance in return.

She shivers at the loss of heat, the loss of her touch, and sinks to the floor of the tub, whispering Raven's name like a mantra, as her heart rate slows.

_Drip, drip, drip-drip._

She taps her fingers against the bathtub in rhythm with the leaking shower-head, a sudden impulse causes her to grab the shower-head and shut her eyes, furiously picturing Raven. She imagines fucking the cocky grin off of her.

"Raven," she calls again, more loudly now she's getting what she wanted (and half in spite).

Raven on the other hand doesn't make it to the bedroom before Clarke's cries start and she drops to her knees responding. Clarke saying her name and well, imagining what she's doing in there just makes her come right there too.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Clarke can't sleep that night; she's going over what she did wrong, how she could have prevented it, and stresses over game plans.

_What if she put Bellamy and Raven on separate teams..._

 

Raven can't sleep either; she wonders what would she would do when Bellamy got the sports scholarship over her and she had to move away from Clarke because she couldn't afford to stay.

 _T_ _he Princess can't marry the Drop Out; that's not how the fairytale ends._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Snorts for an eternity*
> 
> I can't even blame a barista this time.

**Author's Note:**

> You can direct your thanks, hate mail or WTFs to the barista at Starbucks who must've put a double shot in my PSL which kept me awake til 5am today, leaving me with three hours sleep and this is the result.


End file.
